


Don't Let This Line Go Slack

by IncomingAlbatross



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (except maybe Scott Lang he seems cool), Canon Death Wish, Death Wish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Phil Coulson is the best MCU dad by miles, Season/Series 04, ish?, minimal editing we die like Coulson, tell me if I'm tagging this wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 18:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncomingAlbatross/pseuds/IncomingAlbatross
Summary: They're getting ready to go after Eli, but Robbie has a few things he needs to tell Coulson first. Things about Daisy.The one where Coulson finds out about the "just end it" incident with the Rider, and realizes he needs to have a talk with his troubled kid.





	1. Don't Give Up On Us Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Just watched Season 4 recently (still not up on Season 5, waiting until it goes up on Netflix), and . . . this happened.
> 
> I'm not super-happy with this fic--it didn't really flow quite right when I was writing it--but, realistically, it was either post it like this or not at all. And this fandom can always use more Coulson & Daisy father-daughter stories, right?

"So . . . Daisy was a SHIELD agent?"

Coulson turned to see Robbie Reyes leaning against the wall, fidgeting with his hands.

"Yes," he answered, unsure where this was going.

Robbie shook his head, a bemused twist to his lips. "Y'know, at first I thought she was just a crazy vigilante who'd found herself a cause. Kinda like me, y'know?" he added wryly. "Then, SHIELD came back into the open, and she showed up with a SHIELD agent in tow and I got pulled on board this . . . well, _this_." He gestured at the base around them. "It was pretty clear, pretty fast, that she had history with you guys, and then that she was an ex-agent. So I figured . . . I figured she was anti-SHIELD, y'know? Left because she didn't like your policies, or 'cause you didn't like _her_. I've seen the movies about ex-spies and so on--and it looked like there was a lot of bad history there, the way she avoided everything she could that had to do with her past."

Coulson kept his expression bland with an effort. Daisy was no more "anti-SHIELD" than she'd ever been, he was pretty sure of that by now, but it still hurt a little that her new friend had thought otherwise. Especially since he still wasn't sure what was going on in her head--one minute she showed that she obviously still cared about them all, the next she was keeping away from her team as if they all had the plague.

"Her history with us is . . . complicated," he said truthfully. Then he added, "We kidnapped her from her van, to begin with. But it turned out she didn't really object to that." Just for the reaction.

Robbie narrowed his eyes at him, but looked more . . . irritated than anything. A shame. He must have been getting used to Coulson's random info-drops.

Instead, the young man said, "So she lived in a van before SHIELD too, huh?"

Coulson's attention snapped sharply back to the conversation. "She's been living in a van again?"

A second later, though, he shook his head. "Never mind, of course she was. Mobile, low-income, familiar--I should have factored that into our searches to begin with." He was still angry, though--not at Daisy, but at himself for not knowing. That shouldn't have been a surprise. But then, when she was still refusing to initiate any remotely personal conversation, how was he supposed to know these things?

Robbie gave an amused huff. When Coulson looked back at him, he was half-smiling.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"You," Robbie said. "And her, and the rest of this crazy place. Look, I said I thought I had it down, right? Shady government agency, ex-agent vigilante--I figured she'd only play nice because she had to, and she acted like that was true.

"But . . . then she kept telling _me_ to trust you. I heard her trying to save the big guy--Mack--from the Rider, and when she's actually working with you guys, she's not on guard or angry, she's _comfortable_. And you--you don't want her locked up, but you're not making her work for you either, not really. Why'd you spend your time searching for her if you don't want to do anything with her?"

Coulson opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

His standard rationale-- _We've got to apprehend vigilante Inhumans and rogue agents, obviously_ \--didn't make much sense when he had clearly shown he didn't want her locked up. (Daisy, locked up? His stomach twisted at the thought. She was getting out after this mission, no matter what Mace thought.) But the real answers? He didn't like verbalizing them even to himself, let alone to a stranger.

Robbie just shook his head again, though, pushing lazily away from the wall. "I can't believe it took me this long to put the pieces together--but I suppose I can't believe the answer's that simple, either." He laughed a little. "Who'd've believed that big bad vigilante Quake's really just an angsty runaway kid?"

Thank _you. Finally someone gets it,_ flashed through Coulson's mind, but he didn't say it out loud. It wouldn't be fair to her, not really.

"She's been an adult since before she ever met us," he said instead. "It's a little more complicated than that."

Robbie tilted his head, brow creased earnestly. "Sure, sure," he said, "but I'm not really wrong, am I?" He moved a step closer, uncrossing his arms as he did. "She had a _home_ here. Not a job."

"Not just a job, that's true," Coulson said quietly. He thought abut it for a minute. "Actually, I don't think she's ever gotten a paycheck from us. So--yeah, 'job' might not be the best description."

"And you weren't chasing her because she's a criminal," Robbie said, ignoring his tangent yet again. "You were chasing her because she's family--the way I'd look for Gabe, if he ran off on his own that way." He winced as he said that, and Coulson suspected he'd thought about the possibility more than once. (Not that surprising, he supposed. When you were on a time-share with the Devil, you probably didn't expect your little brother to stick around forever.)

This wasn't about Gabe and Robbie, though. This--for whatever reason--was about Daisy.

"Why are you asking this?" he asked, a little more curtly than he'd meant to.

Robbie wasn't fazed, though. His jaw set, instead, and he looked Coulson in the eye with a troubled gaze. "Because I don't know that I'm gonna make it out of this--Ghost Rider's got his own plans, and I've got a feeling I've got a lot of time riding shotgun ahead of me. And, pain though she was when she first showed up, Daisy's . . . a pretty good person. I wanted to know someone cared about her."

"I care," Coulson said instantly. That, at least, didn't take any thought. "If she's alone, it'll only be by her choice."

Robbie winced again, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, that's why I wanted to talk to you. If you're family . . . I'm not sure she should be making her own choices right now."

Coulson felt a rush of fear at his tone. "What do you mean?"

"First time we met . . . Well, kind of the second time, but the first I barely noticed her . . . we got into a fight. Brought out the Rider . . . and I told her only people who deserved it were the Rider's victims. Murderers, abusers . . . she gave me examples, I told her what they'd done." He took a deep breath, shook his head. "And then I got her on the ground. She was lying there, flaming skull over her . . . and told the Rider to finish it. Said she deserved that. And I know she meant it, no question there."

The world froze.

The world was cold and hollow and still, all the life sucked out of it by that picture, nothing left but a distant roaring in his ears. Or maybe it was just Coulson that was frozen, not the world. It didn't make much difference to him at the moment.

_Daisy--Skye--_

He opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again.

"You're telling me, " he said at last, his voice sounding calmer than he would have expected, even considering its strangled tone, "that Daisy has a _death wish._ "

Robbie looked deeply uncomfortable, eyes flicking down to his hands as they twisted uneasily around each other. "I'm telling you . . . right then, at that moment, she had a death wish," he said slowly. "It was the Rider who saw she deserved to live, and not her. Outside of that fight? I don't know, man. People aren't the same all the time."

"No," Coulson said hoarsely, shaking his head. "No, it's still there. In the prison, she tried to take on the inmates alone--shut me and May out (physically, not just metaphorically, for a change), so that they'd focus on her. She said it was her fight, and I thought--I _wanted_ to think it was a pride thing, the same way she's been trying to go solo against the Watchdogs, or maybe that she'd forgotten how to work in a team and didn't want to risk us, but. . ." He shook his head blankly. _No. No no no. . ._ "This makes way too much sense. Is this why she ran off, though? To get herself _killed?_ "

"Look, I don't know why she ran away in the first place," Robbie said, "but I thought someone needed to know, especially if something happens to me. She needs somebody to fix whatever's been hurt--or at least keep her safe while she fixes it herself."

Coulson nodded, feeling an ache right through his chest. (Loki stabbing him in the heart had been--an experience, to say the least, but not exactly a surprise. But he wished he knew how, exactly, his team kept finding new ways to do it without even being in the room.)

"Robbie," he said, knowing his feelings were on his face and not caring, for once, even if this kid wasn't one of his. _"Thank you."_

"Sure," Robbie said, looking down for a moment. He gave Coulson an oddly melancholy smile when he raised his head again. "It's . . . good to know not everyone's like Eli, deep down."

Coulson . . . didn't know what to say to that.

But Robbie just smiled again and walked away, down the hallway, so Coulson didn't reallyhave a chance to say anything. Maybe it was just as well.

There was someone else he needed to talk to, and he had a sinking feeling that _that_ conversation was going to take all the energy he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the second chapter basically written, so it should be up in a day or two. Until then, how'd I do writing these guys? Comments and criticism are gratefully accepted!


	2. Let You Let Me Hold You

"Hey, Simmons." Coulson leaned through the doorway. "You going to reach a stopping point soon?"

Simmons sighed, and bit her lip. "I suppose," she answered reluctantly. "Daisy's wrists still need to heal, but honestly? The most effective treatment at this point is time."

"I'm combat-ready, though, right?" the young woman in question broke in. Simmons frowned at her.

"Well, yes, if you must, but I'd really rather give your wrists another week of rest. Even with the gauntlets--"

"I'll be  _fine,_ Simmons," Daisy interrupted firmly. "We don't have a week, Eli Morrow needs to go down  _now_ before his god complex runs away with him."

"Pretty sure it already has, but you're right," Coulson agreed. "We need everyone on this one, especially you and Yo-Yo. So. Could I talk to you for a few minutes?"

Daisy sucked in her lower lip for a moment, eyes flickering away from him and then back. "Sure. If Jemma doesn't mind. . ."

"Oh, I don't mind!" the scientist said brightly, clearing her equipment away at record speed. "Just take good care of her, Coulson--don't ask her to overexert herself, please." She gave Daisy a dirty look. "And  _don't_ be the reason she forgets to eat. She's already underweight."

He shook his head. "We're just talking, Simmons. Promise. Hopefully it won't take very long."

"I'm  _right here,_ guys," Daisy said, rolling her eyes.

"Right." Simmons flicked a plastic glove at her, with an apologetic laugh. "Sorry, Daisy. Don't do anything strenuous until the mission starts, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The look Simmons shot at Coulson belied her light tone, though. It was a worried, distressed look, with a not-insignificant element of pleading, and Coulson knew it had very little to do with Daisy's physical condition.

 _Bring her back to us,_  it said _. Fix this. Please._

He gave her a quick half-grimace over Daisy's head.

_I know. I'm trying._

"Right. So. Coulson. What's up?" Daisy had hopped up, and stood eyeing him uncertainly. She seemed to be in one of her more skittish moods, and he was forcibly reminded of the young hacker he'd brought aboard the Bus three years ago.

He shoved the thought down. "Let's go . . . to the Zephyr. Okay?"

She gave him a dubious smile, eyebrows raised. "Okaaay."

Coulson led the way, heading quickly for the hangar. There weren't a lot of private places in the base, oddly enough--the Director's office was good for confidential conversations, but obviously that wasn't an option for Coulson nowadays--and the Zephyr was the best place he could think of for this little talk. It had practically become his new base anyway, in the months since Daisy had left them.

"Seriously, though, what's up?" Daisy asked, a half-step behind him. "Did something come up about the mission, or--this isn't a Quake thing, is it, Coulson, because if it is--"

"It's not about anything you did as Quake," he interrupted. "At least, not like you're thinking." They'd reached the ramp now, but he stopped to turn and look at her. She looked . . . nervous.

And, okay, in retrospect he could see how his lead-in to this conversation could see a little ominous.

He took a breath, and smiled at her, as best he could at the moment. "It's not . . . I'm not planning to lecture you, Daisy. What you've been doing as Quake has never really bothered me, anyway. You're going after the Watchdogs, I get that. We just . . . need to have a conversation. And yes, it is about the mission, a little, but that's secondary."

She gave him a skeptical face, but nodded. "Let's get to it, then," she said, shaking her shoulders and heading into the plane ahead of him. "Don't have any time to waste if we're gonna take Eli down without losses."

"Yeah," he agreed, catching up to her. He looked around the plane's interior--not precisely a closed space, but private enough with no one else in the plane--and, with a deep breath, decided now was as good a time as any to start this conversation. "That's what I'm worried about, actually. The 'without losses' part."

She turned quickly back to him at that, eyes alert with sudden concern. "What's up, Coulson? Something wrong with the mission?"

He huffed a tired laugh. "Nothing you don't know about. No, I'm not talking about the mission in general. I'm not even talking about something specific to this operation, actually. I'm talking about losing  _you--_ on this mission, on the next if there is one, in the battle you find after that, whatever it is. I'm worried about you not making it out of a fight alive, one of these days--" He met her eyes squarely, letting a little of the anguish he felt at his own words show, "--because you don't _want_  to _."_

Daisy swayed backward, apparently involuntarily, and he saw the flash of fear in her eyes. She recovered, though, shaking her head with a desperate little smile. "Coulson, what. . ."

"You think I've forgotten the cafeteria already?" he asked her softly, taking a step toward her. "Because I'm not forgetting it anytime soon. And I can tell you May isn't, either."

"That--that was my fight, Coulson! They were  _Watchdogs--"_

He held up one hand. "Leaving aside the fact that the Watchdogs are most definitely SHIELD's job, too--I wanted to believe that was what it was about, but I can't anymore. Or do you have another explanation for what happened with the Ghost Rider?"

She actually frowned at that, looking honestly confused. "What do you mean, what happened with the Rider?"

"First or second time you met," he elaborated, words clipped, even though part of him was praying Robbie's story had been wrong, somehow. "You got into a fight with Robbie, the Rider came out. . ." He tilted his head, silently prompting her to fill in the rest.

Something in her expression crumpled, as she obviously did.

". . . How did you know about that?" she whispered.

"How do you think?" he returned, jaw clenched. "From Robbie."

"Why. . ." She shook her head again, pressing a hand to her face. "Why would he tell you that?"

"Because he was worried about you. And he saw. . ." Coulson swallowed. "He could see I cared about you."

He'd been trying so hard to respect her boundaries, not to pressure her. But now? It looked like that pressure might be the only thing that could help her.

"Well, that's  _dumb_ ," she blurted out, jaw clenched. "That's not--it's not your problem, Coulson! Let me take care of myself--"

"I would," he broke in, raising his voice, "but you're  _not._  Trying to die does not qualify as _'taking care of yourself!'_  And that's aside from the fact that you clearly haven't been eating or sleeping enough--don't think I didn't hear what Simmons was telling you earlier."

"And what makes this your business, exactly?" Daisy's fists were clenched, but he could see moisture brimming in her eyes. Her breath was coming hard and fast. "I  _left,_  Coulson. I cut ties, I'm not SHIELD anymore--stop trying to tell me--"

"Tell you what? That you matter?" Coulson's voice slipped a little, on those words, and he breathed in deeply to steady it. He didn't want to yell, didn't want to be  _fighting_  her over this.

He took a slow step forward, gentled his voice before speaking again. "This isn't about me, Daisy, this is about you. You  _matter._  You deserve--" He swallowed. "You deserve so much more than you've ever had, but first and foremost you deserve to  _live._ "

She was shaking her head back and forth, slowly now, back practically against the wall. "I don't get it, Coulson," she said, biting her lips. "I tried--I tried to leave you, I did. I didn't want anyone else dealing with  _my_ problems anymore, I thought--I thought I could make it stop."

"By running away from us?" He laughed at that, maybe a little bitterly. "News flash, Daisy, you don't get to choose who cares about you. Not by leaving, not by anything else."

She started, defensiveness evaporating for a moment in the face of her surpise. "That is--that is  _word for word_  what May told me earlier," she said incredulously, actually meeting his eyes in her shock. "Seriously, are you two psychic?"

He laughed again, grateful for the moment of comparative normality, and took a step closer.

"No," he said with a rueful smile. "It's what I told her after Bahrain."

Daisy watched him, wary but curious. ". . . What did she say then?"

He grimaced. "I think it was, ' _Watch me,_ '" he admitted. "I'm surprised she even remembers it, to be honest."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure you won that war," Daisy offered.

He took another step closer, but slowly, cautiously. "I'll win this one too," he promised, putting all his faith into his voice. He was close enough to touch her now. "I'm not giving up on you, Daisy. I never have, I never will."

Her breath caught, face frozen mid-collapse.

He reached out a hand, almost but not quite clasping her shoulder.

"You are worth  _so much,_  by any measure," he whispered, eyes on hers. "Please, don't give up on yourself."

Daisy's stubborn posture crumbled at the same moment as the rest of her defenses, and she let out a strangled sob as she fell toward him. Her face landed in his shoulder, and he caught the rest of her, holding her close--the way he'd wanted to since he saw her in the fireworks store.

"It'll be okay," he murmured, voice aching, as he stroked her hair. "I swear, Daisy--Daisy, we'll make things better."

"Why am I  _like_  this?" she moaned, hitting his back with her fists as she sobbed. The hits lacked all force, though, and she was still leaning into him, so Coulson just tightened his hold on her. "I'm so . . . needy, and  _broken,_  and pathetic. . ."

"Hey," he said sharply, tightening his hold. "Nobody gets to call Daisy Johnson names like that on my plane, okay? You are not  _any_  of those things--you're hurting, and I'm sorry it's gotten so bad, but it's  _not on you."_ He closed his eyes for a moment, in sheer pain that she could think it was. "And there's nothing 'needy' or 'pathetic' about--about  _needing_  people, Daisy, needing help from the people who love you. Everyone in the human race needs that, and you know it."

She made a sound that might have been laughing or crying, he couldn't tell, and he huffed an almost-noiseless laugh. "I know, you're Inhuman," he said, smiling down at her hair. "But Inhumans are human too."

"I wish I didn't feel like this," she whispered into his shoulder. "I just--I'm sorry, Coulson, I'm so  _tired_ , I wanted a way to end it."

His breath caught. "I know," he said softly, resting his cheek against her head. "I know, but Sk--Daisy, don't do it this way, please, not this way. Let me help." Closing his eyes, he turned his face into her hair, trying to assure his senses of the warm, living presence that could so easily  _not be there_.

"I'm not asking you to come back to SHIELD," he murmured, "I don't--I want you to have what you need, and if that's not here then--then go where you need to be. But--but please,  _Daisy_ \--I can't--"

He felt Daisy's head move to look up at him. "Coulson," she said, voice suddenly uneven with shock as well as sobs, "are you crying?"

He blinked his eyes open to see hers right in front of him, wide and blurry in his gaze.

"Huh," he said raggedly, trying to smile at her. "Guess I am." He could feel the tears rolling down his face, now that she mentioned it--there were probably a few in her hair as well--but he hadn't noticed before. All he could feel was the terror--the heart-pounding fear of someone who had woken up on the edge of a precipice and not been sure how long he'd been there, or how to get away from it.

Daisy's breath caught again, sharply, at his response, and she pulled her arms free of his hold--to throw them around his neck, instead, clinging to him as if he were a pillar in a hurricane. "I'm sorry," she breathed into his ear, "I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot. . ."

"I feel like we just covered the 'calling yourself names' thing," he managed hoarsely, one hand moving up to cup the back of her head as the other rubbed her back.

She shook her head, the ends of her hair brushing against his face with the motion. "I told myself--I made myself believe, if I cut my ties, if I _wanted_  it enough, I could make it so no one else would care what happened to me anymore. So--so that you wouldn't be hurt by what I did to myself, and I wouldn't--I wouldn't be hurt if something happened to any of you, either." She chuckled, wetly but sincerely. "Turns out  _that_  was a load of garbage."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Sorry you had to find out like this, but feelings don't really work that way."

She nodded into his shoulder. "I knew. But I didn't think," she said hoarsely. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about it hurting  _you. . ."_

"Shhh, hey," he said softly. "This isn't--isn't about  _me,_  Daisy. It's about you. I just want--I don't want you hurt anymore, okay?"

She nodded into his shoulder. "I know. But I'm still sorry." She chuckled again. "I'd sure want an apology from you, if you scared me like--"

She fell silent for a moment.

Then she held him tighter, fiercely. " _Coulson_ ," she breathed, sounding stunned. "I'm  _sorry._ "

He shook his head. "Apology accepted," he said. "Now--" he puled away from her slightly, just enough to meet her eyes, "talk to me, Daisy. Please. What do you need?"

"You, apparently," she said, and his heart leapt a little. "You and May, and Fitzsimmons, and Mack--I tried to get better by running away, but I haven't gotten much better, just--tired, and homesick. I don't know about SHIELD, but I need  _you._ I need--" she broke off, hanging her head.

Coulson put a hand to her face, tilting it back up.

"People who love you?" he asked mildly, and counted her flushed look downward as an affirmative.

He smiled at her. "You can say it," he said. "I said it first, after all."

She looked at him, and smiled back--a soft, wondering, honest smile, the kind that perpetually made him wonder how someone could grow up as starved of love as she had been and still be so free with it.

"I think--I think I'm going to be okay," she said softly, bright resolution still shining in her face. She put a hand over his, where it still rested on her cheek. "Just don't give up on me?"

He smiled a smile of pure relief. The war might not be won yet, but he could recognize a pivotal victory when he saw one. "I already gave you the answer to that," he told her almost lightly. "Never have, never will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideally, I feel like this should have a third chapter--y'know, where they actually talk about Daisy's problems more in-depth, like I expected them to in _this_ chapter--but for now I'm going to leave it the way it is.
> 
> . . . Which makes this my first completed multi-chapter fic. Cool.
> 
> And fic and chapter titles are all from the Vienna Teng song "Transcontinental, 1:30 A.M.," because apparently she's my go-to source for titles at the moment.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I haven't written AoS before, despite having watched it for years, so this was fun. And I was _not_ expecting so much feedback on Chapter 1, so thanks so much for that, AoS fandom!


End file.
